


Tongue-Tied

by jumponthechandelier



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, Unabashed Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 21:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19754575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumponthechandelier/pseuds/jumponthechandelier
Summary: Every time he looks at you, the words play on the tip of his tongue like a record that just won't spin. He just didn't want to mess things up.You really are a sight to behold, though. You were then, and you are now.Or-Dante reminisces on the first time he met you.(DantexReader)





	Tongue-Tied

**Author's Note:**

> A follow-up fic to Motive. Fluff, humor, and Dante struggling to say what he always wanted to.

“Dante, do you remember when we first met?”

Said demon hunter eyed you curiously from his seat at the desk, head peeking up from his magazine to scan your sprawled out form on the couch. You had one leg haphazardly hanging off to the side like some broken flamingo. One arm was used as support to your laid back head, while the other drew circles in the air in a pattern similar to the fan on the ceiling. Much to Dante’s delight, you were dressed down in an attempt to beat the city’s stifling summer heat.

He let out a low hum, eyebrows raised in a suggestive manner. “Of course I do… Like most women, you were enamored by my good looks and charm.”

You snorted, hand stopping its tracing movements just to give him the finger. “Fuck off.”

Silence fell between the two of you, the hum of the radio filling the space as you engrossed yourself in your thoughts once more.

And Dante, despite his teasing, knew exactly how he stumbled into you. A day, despite over a year later, he could recall like it was a rental movie he could press play on at any time. Definitely an award winner, if you asked him.

10/10 if he was being specific.

If the dictionary needed a definition of a dive-bar, you could take a snapshot of the place he had just stumbled into and slam it right down. Sticky floors, excessive wood paneling, an overbearing smell of stale beer, and a shoddy pool table right in the middle of it all. Patrons ranging from clearly underage hipsters, to men who belonged to a biker gang whose base was in Red Grave’s sewers, to well…

**You**.

Dante nearly stopped in his tracks right then and there.

You were bent over the pool table, assets on display and fingers delicately curled around the cue. A confident smirk was plastered on your face as you took the break shot with ease.

You stood and purred, winking at your opponent. “Stripes it is.”

The burly man scowled, him and his gaggle of pals watching you take your next shot with annoyance. Another one, direct pocket- this clearly wasn’t your first go around.

Took another shot for you to finally miss.

Dante finally looked away, taking a seat at the bar to order a bottom shelf whiskey. Anything to get his mind off the dead-end mission Morrison had given him earlier that day...That and the piece of ass that continued to play a game of pool like a panther stalking its prey. He threw the shot back, the after burn only providing a short distraction as his eyes inevitably wandered back to the game.

You were way ahead with only one striped ball left, a cattish grin on your face as your opponent failed his next shot. He still had four on the table. You, with a grace that seemed more akin to dancing than a game of pool, knocked your last ball into an awaiting net. The white ball followed, a scratch, and Dante smirked.

You did that on purpose.

With angry rumblings from the men around you, you set the cue ball up to its most advantageous point and hit the 8 ball right into the pocket.

You stood and winked. “Game.”

“You fuckin’ bitch!”

The man lunged at you like some rabid animal, face red from a likely combination of anger and alcohol. Dante’s initial knee-jerk reaction was to, obviously, save the day. However, the gentle, but irritated voice of the bartender stopped him immediately. She watched the fight with scrutinizing eyes, her hands absentmindedly drying a glass.

“She can hold her own. If you step in she’s gonna get pissed.”

Before Dante even had a chance to react to the woman’s warning, his eyes watched in impressed wonder as you swiftly sidestepped, letting the man pathetically tumble to the ground with a thud. You placed a boot on his back, expression full of chagrin as one of his groupies roughly grabbed your shoulder. Within a second you had a pistol to his chin, his eyes widening as you stepped off his friend’s back and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

Dante had no idea what the hell you said, but it was enough for the groupie to slam a wad of cash on the pool table. Your opponent scrambled up, still swaying as his group made a run for the exit. To his surprise, none of the patrons seemed to be affected by your display.

The demon hunter let out a scoff, cerulean eyes turning back to the bartender. He pointed over his shoulder at your smug form. “What’s her usual?”

“Bottom-shelf vodka. Not sure how her liver hasn’t shriveled up yet.”

He smirked, “Her next one’s on me.”

As he predicted you strode over to the bar, plopping down just one stool away from him. You paid him no mind, gingerly waving at the bartender with a grin. “Victory shot?”

The woman obliged with a sigh, nodding at Dante as she promptly grabbed a glass and poured the vodka. “It’s on him.”

You turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before your lips rested into a genuine smile. “Haven’t had a man buy me a drink in awhile, you must be new around here.” 

Dante smirked, “I’ve always admired a woman who could play a good game of pool.”

You let out a low hum, leaning in towards the white-haired male. “Wanna know a secret?”

“And what would that be?”

A cattish grin broke your features, voice a whisper as you spoke. “Table’s rigged. Lower left leg is shorter than the others. Guaranteed shot.”

You leaned back and winked, throwing your victory shot back with ease.

What the hell had he just gotten himself into?

“You alright, Dante?”

You were sitting up on the couch now, an amused smile on your face as you watched the dazed man. His expression was softened, lips upturned ever so slightly as he looked in your direction. It took him a few moments to register your voice, eyes blinking in confusion until they closed with a laugh.

He swiftly stood up, moving to hover over you without a word. He slapped both of his palms down on the back of the couch, each hand resting on either side of your head. You jolted slightly, but otherwise remained unaffected.

Leaning in he finally spoke, the very words he thought of when he first met you dancing on the very tip of his tongue-

_‘Do you know how beautiful you are, Babe?’_

Your voice broke his train of thought. “Out with it, Dante.”

Said white-haired male let out another laugh, eyes roving over your facial features. “How about we go play some pool?”

Your eyes alight with excitement, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, hesitating for a moment to push him out of the way.

“Hm, drinks on you, _Cowboy_.”


End file.
